


A Befitting Title {kanan}

by loosingletters



Series: Pragmatics of the Jedi [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 5 Times, Canon-Typical Mention of Genocide, Conlang, Dai Bendu, Gen, Jedi Culture, Languages and Linguistics, Name Changes, Post-Order 66, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters
Summary: Dai Bendu is the language of the Jedi.Here are four times Caleb Dume heard the wordkanan.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Kanan Jarrus & Jedi Order
Series: Pragmatics of the Jedi [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885129
Comments: 29
Kudos: 380
Collections: Jedi-Friendly





	A Befitting Title {kanan}

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghostwriterofthemachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/gifts).
  * Inspired by [An Imprecise Translation {ben}](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965559) by [ghostwriterofthemachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/pseuds/ghostwriterofthemachine). 



> So, my lovely co-creator [ghostwriterofthemachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/pseuds/ghostwriterofthemachine) and I were talking about how much it sucked that we don't have a Jedi language and _wouldn't it be sweet if there was one and oh? You also want to conlang?_
> 
> So long story short, we have made up a language specifically for the Jedi and all fanfiction we will write that will show up in regards to that topic, can be found in the series!
> 
> Update 13th of October 2020: Due to some adjustments to our phonetics and orthography, edits have been made.
> 
> Have fun!

> **kanan** _/kanan/  
>  noun  
> _runner _, derived from_ **kan** /kan/, _verb._ "to run"




Caleb giggled as he escaped the Jedi’s grip and immediately rushed off towards the playground, tracking the paint clinging to his robes through the whole room and causing the kind of trouble only younglings could. Cleaning up was _boring_ , he much preferred playing and the older children of his Clan were currently engrossed in a fun game of push-and-pull.

“ _Cadeo_ , ibli kanan!” His Crèchemaster ordered, voice strict but fond.

Caleb did as told and stopped running, not because the four-year-old felt particularly scolded or caught. He merely wanted to protest the nickname he’d been given.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and pouted.

“I’m not little,” he said and looked up to the Crèchemaster with his big round eyes, full of childish defiance.

“Oh?” The Master replied as they quickly caught up to Caleb and then bent down to pick him up. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Caleb let himself be taken into the Crèchemaster’s arms, paint-stained fingers taking ahold of their robes. “I’m big!”

The Jedi suppressed a sigh when they saw the mess the boy was making. They suspected Caleb would be in their care a little longer than other younglings, need more time to find his place in the world

“I apologize then, my _big_ runaway,” the Jedi said, smiling kindly at their charge. “But art hour is over and you need to get dressed in something clean.”




Caleb was terrified. His Master – he had a _Master_ now and she was cool and strong and kind and wanted him – had told him how gruesome the war was, how painful, but no matter how much she had tried to prepare him for it with verbal explanation, nothing could compare to experiencing it. Caleb felt as if the darkness was encroaching, surrounding him entirely with the grief of fallen brothers and civilians they were meant to protect. Caleb could only stare in fear into the faces of the people he had been responsible for. Adults twice his size and age were dependent on him, had died thinking he would come save them simply because he was a Jedi.

It was too much.

The world was too loud, too cruel, too dark and Caleb didn’t know how to escape these waters he was drowning in.

“Commander!”

Caleb was tackled to the ground as the very next second a bomb went off just where he had been. The blast of the explosion pushed him and the clone that had thrown themself on top of him even further down. His ears rang. Where before the battlefield had been loud and overwhelming, now a high-pitched shrill sound took over.

Caleb knew that all around him the world was still spinning, the galaxy moving through space, time still flowing, and yet it just felt as if it all froze. He just laid there, unmoving, the heavy body of a dead soldier sheltering him.

_Caleb!_

_Caleb! Padawan, where are you?_

_Here!_ Caleb wanted to shout back, but when he opened his mouth, he tasted ashes upon his tongue, choked on the debris of the buildings falling apart around them.

 _Hurry, Padawan_ , his Master’s voice rang out. _Enoah keel jire, ibli kanan_. _Kan!_

Caleb tried to move his right hand, but only pain greeted him in turn. He must have broken it in the fall. Biting on his lips so hard they bled, he used his left hand instead to push his savior off him and get to his knees. The fight was still going on and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, but Caleb couldn’t stay.

He had to follow his Master’s words, he had to move, he had to get back home.

_You are fast, little runner. Run!_

And Caleb did, not daring to stop until he could collapse into his Master’s arms.




“Caleb Dume died with Depa Billaba,” he said, climbing up his new ship. “Me, I barely remember the guy.”

It was a lie. He _knew_ it was a lie, that he was just trying to convince himself that all those years growing up in the Temple meant nothing, that he could forget every tradition, every word, all the times he had been happy or sad and hadn’t been left alone.

But if he kept clinging to this child, he was going to die. The Jedi were extinct, nobody remained and what use was it if he sacrificed himself?

The best he could do was keep the two people who still knew of Caleb Dume and himself safe.

This was the truth. He had to disappear and run. All he could keep of Dume was the wit that had kept him alive so far – and the name that had been bestowed upon him.

 _Ibli kanan,_ the Force seemed to weep as the stars passed by.




Ezra dropped down into the field, wheezing. Up until now, he had assumed that he had a good constitution, that all the time spent running away from law enforcement hadn’t just gifted him with quick wit but also some good gymnastic skills.

Kanan seemed content to prove him wrong. Instead of learning cool tricks with a lightsaber, Ezra spent _hours_ running circles on a field to build up his strength. It was exhausting.

Kanan only grinned at him. His teacher tossed him a bottle of water, which Ezra accepted thankfully. He downed half the bottle in one go and, after eyeing it critically, decided to throw the remaining water over his head.

He couldn’t feel his legs anymore. They better not have another mission for at least a week. Ezra would seriously die if he had to go even one more step. He thought about just continuing to lie here for a couple days and do nothing else.

“Well done, ibli kanan,” Kanan said, absentmindedly as he began to pack their supplies back together.

Ezra frowned. “What did you just say?”

Kanan froze and hadn’t it piqued Ezra’s interest, he wouldn’t have seen how a multitude of emotions passed over his face within the blink of an eye.

“It’s something my teachers used to call me,” Kanan replied slowly.

Ezra sat up and leaned forward, hoping to encourage Kanan to talk more about them. He didn’t say much about his past, how he had gone from being a Jedi Padawan to a member of the Rebels and Ezra desperately wanted to know more. “And what does it mean?”

“Little runner.”

* * *

Translations:

“Cadeo, ibli kanan!” – Stop, little runner!

"Enoah keel jire, ibli kanan. Kan!" - You are fast, little runner. Run!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!  
> And for more feels, specifically Obi-Wan, check out the work that inspired this one!


End file.
